Trouble
by Welcome the Rising Sun
Summary: Never look for trouble for trouble is here. It is here for a purpose. Use it for the purpose in which it was intended — to help you grow. Thank God for your troubles. HP x OC
1. Closer

**Author's Note: ****Trouble is a Harry Potter (and the Order of the Phoenix) story laced with the anime _Loveless_. This story features Harry Potter and a FEMALE OC. If you are less-than-knowledgeable of Loveless, you need not worry. It's not a real hardcore crossover, instead primarily using HP characters and mere mentioning cameos of canon Loveless characters. So you should be able to follow along reasonably well. If not, drop a line and I'd be happy to help.**

Summary: "Never look for trouble for trouble is here. It is here for a purpose. Use it for the purpose in which it was intended — to help you grow. Thank God for your troubles."

Pairing: Harry Potter x Original Female Character

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Loveless belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and Yun Kōga, in their own respective ways. The songs, lyrics, and various quotes used do not belong to me either, all belonging to the song writers, artists, or other such people who came up with them.

However, I do claim ownership of the Units who will appear in the much later chapters.

* * *

**.:Closer:.**

Pissed off. That was an easy way to describe young Harry Potter as he stalked down the streets of Little Whinging, his aunt and uncle's angry yells trailing behind him. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd get it when he returned to that house, but it didn't matter. The whole summer was hell and even the universe knew it.

As he approached the corner, the sound of a strumming guitar found his ears and he remembered that this was her corner. The "her" in question was simply a girl, just a few years his senior. He didn't know who she was or where she came from, but then again, neither did anyone else in the town. He had heard his aunt (and her gossiping friends) speak of a girl who just showed up there shortly before summer and how she was an "eyesore to the streets of Little Whinging."

Finally reaching the end of the street, the young hero came up beside her. She was set up as she always was, head hung over her guitar as her fingers nimbly danced over the strings. The tune she played was foreign to him, as many of her songs were, but was quite soothing to his angered soul. Her case, he noted, had only collected a few bills so he dug into his pockets for what little change he had and dropped it with the rest; just a small token of thanks for quelling his anger ― something, as of late, only she seemed able to do... Not bothering to dwell on such a flimsy thought, he quickly crossed the street to the park, leaving a pair of dual, violet and honey-colored eyes to stare after his form before seemingly disappearing in a flutter of butterflies.

Shortly after hopping the fence, Harry plopped himself down on the only unbroken swing, his feet dragging through the ground but using enough force to propel him back and forth. Now, away from the town and the noise that lived there, his thoughts came rushing back to him. The most prominent being the loud _crack_ that had resounded through Privet Drive. It was this noise that his aunt and uncle blamed him for, which also resulted in him being driven from that house. He was sure, more than sure actually, that the sound had been caused by someone magical, someone who was Apparating or Disapparating. But if it was someone magical, why hadn't they shown themselves to him? Made themselves known? Or at the very least, brought him news of his world, instead of leaving him the dark like a small child who wasn't allowed to hear the "grown up" conversations. It was these thoughts in his head that brought him to the brink of screaming until a new voice popped into his head, this one saying that he was just so _itching_ for something magical to happen, that he was tagging everyday occurrences as magical happenings.

His musings were interrupted by raucous laughter and the clicking of racing bikes. He raised his head and turned to the direction of all the noise, eyes automatically falling on little street gang his cousin, Dudley, ran. In truth, it was more that they were the neighborhood bullies, beating up kids for petty reasons, if there were any reasons at all. For a while Harry simply sat and watched them. The temptation to make himself known was strong, for he knew that if they saw him, they'd come over and harass him, but it would be worth it to see Dudley hesitate, knowing he couldn't do anything to his "freak-of-a-cousin." But the boys never looked his way. Instead, they chatted about the latest 10-year-old to cross their path, reveling in the fact that they beat up small children for enjoyment, before splitting up for the night. It was at this time that Harry detached himself from the swing and wandered in the direction of his cousin, figuring it to be the appropriate time to return to that house. Any later and he was sure to catch more hell than was originally intended for him. "Hey, Big D!" At the sound of the name, Dudley turned around to face the voice, a look of irritation quickly appearing when he recognized the caller.

"Oh, it's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?"

"Shut it."

"Cool name. But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."

And so the trek back to Number 4, Privet Drive was filled with taunting and grunting – from Harry and Dudley, respectively. But as the pair turned down an alleyway, the conversation strayed and took a turn for the worse.

"Not this brave at night, are you?"

"This _is_ night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!"

"What d'you mean, I'm not brave in bed? What – am I supposed to be frightened of pillows or something?"

"I heard you last night. Talking in your sleeping. _Moaning_."

"What d'you mean?"

"'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric – your boyfriend?"

"I – you're lying –"

"Does he know about that girl who comes into your room every night and sings you a lullaby? Or is he in on it as well? I bet you play for both sides, don't you?"

At that, Harry lost his voice. Not because of the implications about his sexuality, but because of the girl singing to him. Apparently, it wasn't any secret that he'd been having nightmares about Cedric's death, but the girl... he'd thought she'd been part of the dream as well. In each instance of his tormented sleep, right when he was inches from death in his nightmares, a soft voice would break through the darkness and drive his demons away. The more he thought on the voice, the stronger it became until it was almost like she was in his ear...

"'Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo-hoo!'"

And just like that, the voice was driven from his thoughts and replaced by his pestering cousin's noise. With a coldness in his voice, he quietly warned his cousin to shut up, but the larger boy paid no mind and continued, completely unaware of Harry's twitchy trigger hand.

"'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to –' _Don't you point that thing at me!_"

The look on the young hero's face was of absolute hatred as he backed his cousin against the alley wall, his wand pointed directly at his relative's heart. It seemed as if everything between the pair had built up to this one moment and it took everything in him not to utter the words to jinx his cousin into a blubbering mess.

"Don't ever talk about that again. D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, _do you understand me?_"

"_Point it somewhere else!_"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM –"

Dudley's words suddenly caught in his throat, leaving him to make a stuttering gasp as the night left them in an unnatural pitch-black void. Any lights, whether they be of the sky or street, disappeared and all sounds, other than Dudley's gasping, were muted. At first, Harry had thought himself to have used a spell without realizing, but once he felt the vaguely familiar chill and heard the deep, rasping breaths, he knew it to be something else.

_'Dementors...'_

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I –"

"I said shut up!"

To say the young wizard was on edge would be an understatement, after-all, the thought seemed ludicrous: Dementors in Little Whinging? Improbable. But then again, this was The Boy Who Lived... worse things have happened.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut –"

Harry was suddenly cut off as a fist made contact with his face, turning his head with the impact and making him stumble back until he hit the opposite side of the alleyway. Even in the dark he could feel his eyes focusing and unfocusing, but what he could not feel, was the smooth touch of his wand. Somewhere in his disoriented state, he had lost hold of his wand and he cursed himself for it. If they weren't in trouble before, they most definitely were now.

The sound of Dudley stumbling away forced Harry from dwelling on his hurt cheek and turning to where he assumed his cousin was running to.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

The footsteps suddenly stopped as a yell resounded from the end of the alleyway, alerting the young wizard that his cousin was caught. Immediately, he fell to his knees, his hands furiously groping at the ground in search for his wand.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand! Where's – wand – come on – _Lumos!_"

The spell fell from his lips in desperation, not believing it would actually work until a small light lit up near his hand. He snatched it up without a moment's hesitation and jumped to his feet. Though, for the briefest moment, he almost wished he hadn't as he came face-to-hood with the dark offender.

His breath caught in his throat as he stumbled away, his wand raising as he spoke the spell "Expecto Patronum!" In the more desperate cases of its use, the Patronus Charm would have warded off the creature, but with Harry in a state of frantic fear and confusion, all that was produced was a silvery wisp, not even strong enough to halt the dementor for a millisecond, let alone send it off.

"Expecto Patronum! ... Expecto Patronum! ... Expecto Pa–!"

The spell choked and died in his throat, though it wasn't the dementor doing this to him. No, it was the sudden feel of arms wrapping around him that froze him to his very core. This was it. This was really it. He was either going to die here or his soul would be sucked away, leaving his body the equivalent of a life-sized doll. It wasn't going to be the Dark Lord who did away with him, like everyone thought, but the physical embodiment of fear... As he seemingly resigned to his fate, he felt a face by his ear, but instead of the chilling breaths, he felt a puff of warm air.

"Shh. Don't be afraid, Little Hero. I'll take care of everything from here. Just stay in my arms and let me draw my strength from you."

It was almost unfathomable how much comfort he found in the voice, a girl's voice, if the lack of bass was any indication of gender. He felt, more than saw, when one of her arms left his waist and raised straight ahead towards the offender.

"_There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle. So with my borrowed power,** light up the world around us and send this creature back into the shadows!**_"

Harry watched in fascination as a small glow appeared before him before a sudden blast of light shot forward and at the dementor. The light had him turning in place, the sudden brightness burning his dilated eyes, and he buried his face into her neck. Though he could hear the dementor fly off, it was a thought pushed into the back his mind. The feeling of this girl's arms wrapped around him, the light airy scent of her skin, the warmth her mere presence gave him... it all felt so familiar to him, but from where, he couldn't place it.

_"Don't need to be afraid. You don't have to be afraid, don't be afraid."_

Her words were a relaxing mantra in his head, erasing all thoughts of everything else: Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, his cruddy summer, his aunt and uncle, Dudley, the demen– Dudley! A gasp tore from him and he stumbled back and out of her grasp before running past and down the alleyway. It was barely a few seconds before he found them, Dudley curled on the ground with not one, but two dementors surrounding and keeping a hold on him. He couldn't help but notice the hoods were pulled back or how close they were to performing their notorious kiss.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

This time, without hesitation or flaw, a silver stag erupted from Harry's wand, chasing down the nearest dementor and sending it flying with its antlers. The stag didn't even have to turn for the other, simply bucking its hind legs right into its foe's chest. Once the threat was done with, the silvery guardian dissolved into a mist.

A warm breeze blew through the area, bringing with it the rustling sounds of trees and the faint sounds of cars. Looking up and around, Harry found the reappearance of the astral lights as well as the glow from the streetlamps. Everything was as it was and should be in Little Whinging, with nothing out of the ordinary in the small English town. The light _tip tap_ of footsteps reminded him he wasn't alone here (not even including Dudley as he was still blubbering on the ground) and he turned, his vision swarmed with nothing but violet and honey.

_'Two-tone eyes? Wait a minute...'_

"You're that girl! The one who plays on the corner!"

True enough, it was the young guitarist from the corner, though she wasn't dressed in her typical bohemian attire (having traded in her sequined clothes for a t-shirt, jeans, and a purple, fur-trimmed jacket). Her hair, he noted, was like her eyes in the aspect of two-tones; a silvery-blonde at the root as the rest fell in the color of black, an obvious dye-job. His evaluation of her was cut short as she flung her arms around his neck, successfully pinning him between her and the wall.

"You had me so worried. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to save you. But they're gone now and you and me, we can build our bond."

"Our what? What're you talking about?"

"I just wanna protect you, enclosed in loneliness, your heart shaken by sadness, for the rest of my days."

"W-what? Stop! Don't–!"

His words died when he felt her lips on his neck, kissing and suckling the skin by his adam's apple. His breath hitched as her hand slipped under his shirt, fingers trailing on his skin before resting above his rapidly-beating heart.

"A bond... between a Sacrifice and its Fighter, is like that of lovers. We are here for the sake of each other, dedicated wholly and solely to one another. You are my Sacrifice and I am your Fighter. I will protect you, my life I trade in for your pain, but there is not enough magic in a bloodline to forge an instant, irrevocable bond. So from here on out, we can only rely on one another; these scars tying us to our names and our names tying us to each other."

"I don't understand... what're you talking about?"

Harry felt the hand slip from his chest as she pulled away, her two-tone eyes blocking out the rest of the world. It was now that he could see that the honey of her eyes were contacts and the violet just peaked out from inside. He refocused his attention when she pushed her bangs away to reveal a small scar, the same shape, size, and placement as his own.

"_It's not your fault, so please stop your crying now._"

His bright green orbs widened in shock, the line she spoke being a line from his dreams. It would seem that not only was she the girl from the corner, but she was the one who saved him in his nightmares. Before he could question her, however, her lips fell over his in a silencing kiss.

If people saw fireworks, he was seeing stars. If hearts skipped beats, his stopped beating. He may not have been as experienced with girls as other boys his age, but the fact remained, his lips were virgin no more.

All too soon though, her weight disappeared from him and he opened his eyes, being greeted by nothing but the opposite alley wall. If it weren't for the faint, feminine scent lingering about him or the incessant tingle of his lips, he would have thought her to have been a post-traumatic hallucination. But wherever it was she disappeared to, he couldn't linger on it, for his batty old neighbor, Mrs. Figg, stood at the end of the alleyway, staring at him pointedly.

_Turn the lights off in this place and she shines just like a star  
And I swear I know her face, I just don't know who you are  
Turn the music up in here, I still hear her loud and clear  
Like she's right there in my ear, telling me that she wants to  
Own me  
To control me  
Come closer  
Come closer_

Ne-Yo : Closer : Year of the Gentleman

* * *

**Random Trouble Fact: **Trouble was originally a part of Smile. I wrote a future scene featuring Lita Donolov, the OC of Smile. It was a one-on-one meeting between herl and McGonagall, with the discussion of what Lita would do after graduation. Lita was in a depressed state at being, physically, 15 and missing any opportunity to help her friends. Continuous reading of the scene made Lita feel very un-Lita-like, so it was scrapped from Smile. But I still rather liked the scene and it evolved into The Girl - the stand-in for the then-unnamed character - being Harry's age, but a wizarding dropout. Somehow Loveless got involved and Trouble had a life of its own.


	2. Lying is the Most Fun

**Author's Note:** Are you still here with me?

2010 sucked. A lot. Four of my computers fried (2 laptops, my home desktop, and my work computer) and only one could be saved (my work computer). I've tried typing at work on my free time, but when your back is (literally) to the bosses, it's difficult to know who's standing over your shoulder. I'm currently borrowing a friend's laptop... although, that may be gone soon and then I'll have to go back to weekend writing at work.

In other news, I've really gotten into the show _Young Justice_ and therefore, have picked up reading a few fics.

_Young Justice: The Nile Chronicles_ by A Small World- Big Dreams is very good, as well as _Captivating Sympathy_ by pancake-at-the-disco. Both OC-oriented fics.

But this isn't only about shameless advertising... Most of the YJ fics with an OC are merely retells of the show, same action and dialogue, and that got me thinking... is Trouble just a retell like that?

**Disclaimer:** Refer to Chapter One: Closer.

**Chapter Warning(s):** Lime.

* * *

**.:Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off:.**

Harry lay silent on his bed, eyes staring blankly out the open window of his room. Without even turning, he could feel the heated glare from the doorway, the large shadow indicating it was his uncle that chose to interrupt his seclusion. Clearing his throat, the man known as Vernon Dursley aimed to gain his nephew's attention, but only succeeded in receiving a tilt of the head.

"We're going out."

"Sorry?"

"We – that is to say, your aunt, Dudley, and I – are going out."

"Fine."

"You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions."

"Right."

"You are not to steal food from the fridge."

"Okay."

"I am going to lock your door."

"You do that."

The sudden slamming, and subsequent locking, of his bedroom door barely shook Harry from his repressed state. Maybe a twitch of the ear, but that was only from the sudden loudness. The sound of the Dursleys car pulling out of the driveway told him they really were gone and, if he had been in a better mood, he would have been grateful for the reprieve, but as it were, he had no feeling one way or the other about it. All his attention was placed on the window of his room, his ears straining to hear any oncoming flapping.

It had been four days since he'd sent his beloved owl, Hedwig, off and there was still no news from his world. Granted, he had been sent a few letters the night of the attack, but those had simply been instructions for him to stay put, not anything explaining what was going on. Hell, no one even congratulated the boy on staving off the Dementors!

_'No, that's not right. _She _did...'_

The "she" in question, of course, referred to that girl; the one who had saved him, but left no name. Eavesdropping on his aunt's gossip brought into light that she hadn't been seen in all of Little Whinging since the attack and if it hadn't been for the messages she sent, he would have worried over her fate.

Turning on his side, he focused his attention on the paper birds sitting on his nightstand. They were unique to him in that they didn't arrive by owl or Muggle post, but simply floated in through the window. Reaching over, he gathered them up and began pulling their wings apart, their messages unfolding in his hands.

_'I did not have a chance to say, but I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to see what you do next.'_

That had been her first message, waiting for him when he retreated to his room after the attack. The message almost hadn't made it to him as Hedwig had set her sights on the little thing. In an act of self-preservation, the bird suddenly undid itself, floating peacefully to the floor once Hedwig saw it to be nothing more than a slip of paper.

_'My silly little hero, you'll wear a hole through the floor if you keep that up.'_

That one had come the following afternoon when he had taken to pacing to pass the time. When he received that message, he had shot towards the window, sticking his head as far out as it could go without falling. Sadly, there was nothing to see and no one around.

The last one had come the night before. While the Dursleys were snoring away in their beds, Harry had slipped from his room and into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he stood over the sink, hands gripping the porcelain as he stared hard at his reflection. With a slight tilt of his head, his eyes focused on the discolored spot on his neck.

His first love-bite.

Despite the embarrassment, he couldn't help the pride he got from looking at it nor could he stop the heated feeling he got when he remembered it. He could still hear her whispered voice, hot and breathy against his ears. He could remember the feel of her hands running across his chest, his skin tingling in their wake whilst her mouth sucked and nibbled on his neck, quickening his pulse and setting his blood alight.

A slight fluttering behind him caught his eye and he turned to catch the paper bird. His quickly scanned over the message, its content staining his cheeks a brilliant red. He hastily stuffed the note into his pocket, splashed cold waster on his face and disappeared into bed.

_'You seem very fond of that mark. I can give you more, if you'd like...'_

It was unsettling that she always seemed to know what he was up to and that he was being watched by unseen eyes, but at least she made contact with him... unlike his so-called friends... or his godfather... or the wizard who issued this _protective detail_ in the first place...

A loud crash from down below forced the boy to his feet. He stood still, his ears straining to hear, but after a few moments of silence, his mouth fell into a frown; there were too many mufflers between him and downstairs.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but quickly made up his mind and grabbed his wand. It had only been an hour since the Dursleys left, far too soon for them to be done hobnobbing at whatever uppity party they'd been dressed for. Quietly, he made his way to the door and pressed his ear against the wood. There were voices, lots of voices, all hushed and hurried. The boy's brow scrunched at this; they weren't the Dursleys and they couldn't be burglars – these people were being far too loud for that.

A sudden rattling through the wood forced Harry from the door, eyes on the handle as it shook violently. The unlocking click of the knob had the hero's wand at the ready, but the emptiness outside his door cast confusion into his eyes. Forgoing his hesitation, he crept out the door, aiming to be as quiet as possible and listening for any more noise, though all he could hear was his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears. But as he reached the stairs, he wished he'd just stayed in his room. At the foot of the stairs stood a group of ten people, give or take a few, all seemingly staring up at him.

Panic flooded the boy's system, his heart seeming to pound thunderously in his ears as he raised his wand in defense.

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."

"P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?"

"Lower your wand boy, before you take someone's eye out."

"Professor Moody?"

"Don't know so much about 'Professor.' Never got round to much teaching, did I? Now, get down here, we want to see you properly."

Everything was happening much too fast for Harry to grasp, the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him lightheaded. The people in his kitchen were magic folk, wizards and witches... including two of his former professors. Somewhere in the haze of his mind he heard a female voice call out a spell and a small torch of light lit up the kitchen.

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would. Wotcher Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus. He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes. Lily's eyes."

Nothing was making sense to Harry as he watched the scene before him. An entire month had passed with nothing more than his friends telling him keep his head down and stay out of trouble. Now... now he had a room full of wizards, staring at him and chatting away like he was some sort of statue on display.

"Won't you come down, Little Hero?"

Harry's eyes widened at the voice and he was down the stairs in an instant. Prof. Lupin met him at the bottom, a smile on his weathered face, and brought him further into the room.

"This is Alastar Moody, Harry. And this is Nymphadora - ("_Don't _call me Nymphadora, Remus. It's Tonks.") - who prefers to be known by her surname only. ("So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora'.") And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones."

Harry's eyes traveled from face to face as Prof. Lupin gave the introductions, a certain eagerness creeping up every time a female was introduced that disappeared shortly after seeing the face. There was no denying he was looking for someone particular, but she wasn't here.

_'I heard her... I swear I did.'_

The boy's self-doubt was put on hold as Prof. Lupin clapped his hand on his shoulder.

"And you've already met this one, I'd think."

"We have, Remus. Rest assured."

And there she was, sitting on the back of the Dursleys couch like she was a hood ornament. Even though the girl was staring at him expectantly, the words wouldn't come. She had drained her hair of its false coloring and removed her contacts, even her style had changed – this time looking every bit a punk in her dark-colored clothes and fishnets – but he knew it was her; he'd been obsessing over her so much it would be next to impossible to mistake her.

The attack flashed vividly in his mind and he shifted in his stance.

_'I wouldn't say we _haven't_ met...'_

"You'd better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes," said Prof. Lupin, lifting his hand off Harry's back and bringing his watch to his face.

Tonks raised her hand to offer her assistance to the Boy Hero, but was beat to the punch when the blonde Fighter crossed the room. "I'll help you," she said smiling and slipped her hand into his; there was something about her smile that Harry found to be highly misleading. Apparently, Harry wasn't the only one to think so.

"None of your tricks, girl. We're on a schedule."

"Then I guess we'd better get a move on then, instead of listening to you growl at people, ne, Mad-Eye?"

Her smile never faltered as she answered and she didn't linger any longer afterward. With a light tug, she turned and led the boy from the kitchen, although his ears seemed hesitant to leave.

"Really, Lupin, you think it's alright for _that girl _to be alone with the boy?"

"I don't see why not. If there's anyone to keep him safe, it'd be her."

"Oh, and if she just happens to – _damn it! _It keeps sticking – ever since that scum wore it – "

"Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?"

"Just get me a glass of water, would you?"

"Quite a cast of characters we are, ne?"

Harry's attention shifted back towards the girl, however, she wasn't focused on him, not entirely anyway. Her attention was on his room, which was, to say the very least, a mess; being in there for four days while in a sour mood brought out the slob in him, although the blonde didn't seem to mind. After a light squeeze, she released his hand and set to work. Harry couldn't help but notice how comfortable she seemed here, moving about his room with a familiarity that rivaled his own.

"How often have you been in here?" asked Harry as he joined in packing his room. He attempted to sound nonchalant, but even he realized the words sounded like an accusation.

"Only when you had nightmares."

For a moment, Harry stood frozen... he'd been having nightmares nearly every night since Cedric's death.

"You're unhappy with me."

"What makes you say that?"

"The look on your face."

The look that the boy apparently had deepened as his eyes flashed over to the Fighter. She had abandoned her task to clean, choosing to sit on his bed and watch him, a knowing smile spread across her face as she met his smile.

"Come and sit," she said, patting the empty space beside her, but instead of complying, Harry turned back around.

"We're supposed to be packing, you know."

"Oh? Well then... _Maglinis ka nang kuwarto at balutin mo ang kailangan._" [1]

The boy fell backwards with a startled "whoa," narrowly avoiding being clonked on the head with a book as his room erupted in movement. Books, clothes, scrolls, and scales... everything that had been mussed and dirtied in the past few days flew from their fallen places, hovering in the air for a moment as an invisible force cleaned them, and finally zoomed into his trunk.

"How'd you do that?" asked the boy, turning his full attention to the blonde as he pushed himself back into standing.

"Magic, of course."

Harry felt like kicking himself; somehow, he felt he should've expected that answer.

"That's not what I meant... How'd you do that _without a wand?_"

With a sigh, the blonde rose from the bed; the boy was obviously not going to come to her.

"There are different brands of magic throughout the world and most of them don't depend on a wand. Divination, as I'm sure you're familiar with, is a magic that is completely wandless. And I'm sure you've heard of Voodoo... there's also alchemy, although that's more of a science..."

The blonde trailed off, as if deep in thought, but her silence didn't last long as she gave him that smile again, the one that seemed more a lie than anything else.

"You know, love and magic have a great deal in common."

"Love?" asked Harry, feeling himself flush and blanch at the same time and he took a step back, the look in the woman's eyes becoming dangerously mischievous as she followed him.

"Mhm. They enrich the soul, delight the heart..."

Backtracking led the boy to the wall, something the Fighter took full advantage of as she placed her hands on the spaces beside his head. Being that she was the taller of the two, she had to dip down to bring them eye-to-eye.

"And they both take practice."

Harry was once again frozen in her presence as she eliminated the small space between them, pulling her body flush against his, her breath hot against his lips.

"Let's make a bond... stronger than all others."

Harry struggled for words, actions, anything that would get him out of this situation. The opportunity presented itself as he realized something.

"I don't even know your name... how would we do that?"

"I'll tell you everything if you accept."

"What?"

"All those questions swirling round your mind, I'll answer each and every one."

Harry tried to search her face for any deception or truth, but with his body being so virgin and hers being so close, the blood was quickly draining from his head and heading south.

"I – yes, I accept!"

Just like in the alley, her lips crashed down on his in a silencing kiss. Every coherent thought and negative emotion disappeared, simply leaving him lost in the feeling of her. And she felt _good_. He heard her hands slide down the wall before he felt them, one coming to rest on his shoulder as the other continued downward. His body twitched in anticipation as the other slipped between them, raising his shirt to play with the coarse hairs on his lower stomach. With her warm hand on his skin, so low on his virgin body, and yet not low enough, he couldn't stop his mouth from falling open in a silent moan.

His eyes shot open as she took advantage of the opening, her tongue moving behind his teeth, coaxing him to play, and bringing the taste of cigarettes and apples. It surprised him that she was a smoker, but instead of repulsing him, like he always imagined kissing a smoker would, it drew him in.

_'Secondhand nicotine addiction...?'_

Just like his thoughts, her mouth trailed away from him. His burning lungs made him heave for air, a momentary distraction before she redirected her attention to his neck. A sweep of her tongue was the only warning she gave before she began her assault, freshening the mark from days ago as his pulse increased beneath her lips. She was further encouraged when his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her impossibly close against his growing stiffness. This time, the moan came from her and she had to withdraw from his throat.

"S'pose I can't call you 'little' anymore, ne?" asked the blonde breathlessly, the bulge pressing against her was unmistakable, and earned a self-satisfied smirk from her hero. Feeling empowered at making _her_ the weak-kneed one, Harry switched their positions, pinning her to the wall, and initiated the next kiss, easily invading her mouth in eager, albeit, clumsy fervor.

Harry felt her gasp as her back hit the wall, felt her hands clawing at him, looking for something to hold onto, and, finally, the slight lift of the corners of her mouth as she smirked into the kiss; she had been waiting for Harry to come to her himself... and _coming_ was exactly what she had in mind.

In truth, it was foolhardy on his part to think he could dominate her completely, but it was a far more enjoyable mistake than any he'd made before. She easily retook control of the kiss, licking, nipping, and sucking spots in his mouth that drove him crazy... and hardened him faster than any porn magazine ever had.

Aiming to ease his need, he attempted to nudge her legs apart, but was met with resistance. There was a low growl in his throat, something which amused the blonde greatly, but her intent was made clear as she deftly undid his pants and swiftly pulled his length from his boxers.

Harry's head fell forward with a groan, his breath coming in hot puffs against her neck. Using the mirror allowed her to study him, the look on her hero's face being one that she would treasure forever: his eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows drawn together, his jaw was set, and he had a blush across his face as deep as the Nile. Despite the incessant thrusting of his hips and the pleading whine, she kept her hands still.

"C'mon Hero, open your eyes. I want you to look at me."

Harry's eyes broke open, just a sliver at first, but they settled into half-moons, and he lifted his head from her shoulder. Those pretty eyes of his that were typically a bright shade of green had darkened considerably in their lust and set within those liquid orbs was the image of the woman that made him this way.

"Don't... stop..." Harry mumbled and leant forward, breaking their contact and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses that ended at her collar. She hummed low in her throat, clearly enjoying the feeling of her hero sucking on her flesh.

"Is that an order?"

"... yes."

The order was accompanied by a rather harsh bite on her neck. There was no doubt that a mark would be left behind, but the action worked in his favor as her hands, finally, began pumping him.

His hands moved frantically over her, not knowing where to put them. Eventually, he let one settle on cupping her apple-shaped ass as the other moved under her shirt, fingers tracing the edge of her bra. There was a brief moment as their eyes flickered over each other before Harry's snapped shut again, a shuddering groan escaping him when deft fingers gave his balls a squeeze, then going right back to tugging and soothing his hard cock. With boldness, Harry slipped his fingers under the stiff underwire of her bra, his whole hand slowly molding against her round breast.

Harry tucked himself closer; his skin felt like it was smoldering in contrast to the cool-skinned woman. His breathing became ragged as she continued milking him, all the while licking his neck and biting on his ear, encouraging her hero to keep up his ministrations. Both knew he was close to the end and he tried to hold on for a moment longer, but it was too late. With one last stroke, she raked her nails along his shaft and he came undone. His hands tightened on her ass and breast as his seed spurted out, making a mess that made him both hot all over again and completely embarrassed at the same time.

Slowly, the hand left from the depths of Harry's pants and he watched as she brought it to her face. His blood seemed to start rushing again as she contemplated the sticky substance, but she seemed to decide against it and, instead, leaned forward to leave a chaste kiss of her hero's lips.

"Sōran."

"What?"

"My name... it's Sōran."

There was a dazed smile on Harry's face, whether it was because of his post-orgasmic high or because he'd finally learned her name was debatable.

"_Malinis na ang aming mga katawan._" [2]

The invisible force was back again, this time with the purpose of cleaning them, rather than his room. The sweat that had accumulated on their skin was wiped away and his pants no longer felt wet; all traces of what had just occurred was gone.

"This," started Sōran as she pushed the boy back, "is only the beginning of our bond. I warn you though, it gets harder." Setting herself straight, Sōran stepped around her hero and gathered his trunk, shrinking it with another of her foreign spells, and headed out the door. "Don't forget the cage or your broom!" She couldn't stop the giggle as she heard his clumsy footsteps scramble about his room.

"Excellent, I was almost beginning to worry," said Lupin as the pair re-entered. The wolf beckoned the boy over while the blonde made her way over to Tonks.

Unlike most women Sōran was forced into contact with, she felt no ill-will towards Tonks. Part of it was due to their kindred spirits, but most of it originated from the fact the Fighter knew Tonks had no interest in her hero other than that gawk-and-awe fascination most wizards had when it came to The Boy Who Lived.

"You know, I don't think purple's really my color," started Tonks as she tugged on the hair in question. "D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?"

Sōran huffed a smile as she gave her attention to the older woman. "It could just be the way you're reflected from a spoon."

"No. It's definitely the hair," stated the shifter-witch and a look of concentration entered her face; a moment later and her hair turned bubble-gum pink. "How do I look?"

"Sōran, could you come here for a moment?"

Looking over, she saw that Harry was with Mad-Eye and that Lupin, the one who called, was waiting for her patiently.

It was silent between the two as Lupin waited for everyone to become re-entranced with Harry, but his voice was low when he finally did speak.

"Do you really think that was wise?"

"Sex is a good building block, a powerful tool in human bonding. Giving him a hand-job is a decent start between us."

Lupin flushed at her bluntness, but Sōran found no need to beat around the bush with Lupin. She knew the moment they came downstairs that he already knew what she'd done, he probably even knew the moment she initiated it; the wolf may be subdued, but his senses were still active.

"I understand you want to bond with the boy, but don't you think it could've waited?"

"I gave him a choice. He accepted."

Lupin's exasperation was met with indifference and he followed the rest of the Guard into the garden, Sōran slowly trailing behind. She had meant to put it from her mind, leave _those _thoughts for a time when she could properly dwell on them, but Lupin's questions brought them back full-force.

She was met with no resistance as she raked her fingers through her hair. It had been ages ago when she'd lost her ears and part of her was sad that she couldn't have offered them to her hero, or at least lost them together; even though Westerners' virginity wasn't physically manifested as a cat tail and ears, she could still see the outline on her boy. It was that thought that brightened the situation; she would be his first.

"Get ready! The first signal will be up soon!"

While Sōran wasn't exactly pleased with him, Mad-Eye's growling command was sound and she took her place beside Tonks. There was a faint smile on her face as she kept her gaze ahead; she could feel her Sacrifice's eyes drilling into her back.

A pop was heard as she held her hand to the side, a stance most witches and wizards take when they have their first flying lesson, and a stick appeared in her palm. It was quite similar to the wizarding broom, but instead of the tail finishing with synthetic bristles, the wood continued, widening and flattening out at the end.

"An oar?" came her Disillusioned hero's voice, his tone caught between laughing and being curious.

Sōran sat sidesaddle on her oar, instantly hovering off the ground, and turned her head over her shoulder.

"I'm not from around here, Hero."

"Then where're you from?"

A shower of red sparks lit up the sky high above them.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first sign!"

"All questions are answered in good time."

"But you said – !"

"Second signal, let's go!"

Lupin's voice was accompanied by more sparks, this time green, and the group shot into the air.

_Let's get these teen hearts beating, faster, faster!_  
_So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,_  
_Will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?_  
_So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,_  
_Will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?_

Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off : Panic! At the Disco : A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

* * *

[1] "Oh? Well then... _Maglinis ka nang kuwarto at balutin mo ang kailangan._"  
"_Oh? Well then... _Clean the room and pack what's needed._"_  
[2] "_Malinis na ang aming mga __katawan._"  
"Clean our bodies."

One is correct, I'm not entirely sure about Two. My mother, who was born and raised in the Philippines, translated the first for me. I had to make due with Google Translate for the second since I find it somewhat awkward to explain why I need _that_ sentence translated.

**Random Trouble Fact:** The rating wasn't supposed to go up until Chapter 6, but each rewrite got steamier and steamier. Thank my cousin, BB, for writing the lime.

Special thanks to:

psychotic7796  
hEAvEV's REjects  
DarkWolfYingFa  
Kuro Neko to Kuro Bara  
Dark Neko 4000  
Kitsune Alchemist


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